When Lin Mo opened his eyes in the hospital bed, what greeted him was not the smell of ICU disinfectant, but a pungent smell mixed with mold, dust, livestock manure and inferior grease.
Beneath him was a harsh hard bed, covered with a coarse woolen blanket that rubbed his skin like sandpaper.
Through the narrow arrow holes in the stone wall, a few rays of gray light slanted in, illuminating the dust flying in the air.
He became Alan Brent, a run-down little lord whose name was almost forgotten.
There was no traffic outside the window, only a barren, scorched land and a few wisps of skewed smoke.
When the cold electronic sound of the system exploded in his mind, he knew that his road of iron and blood had just begun.
Intention: Historical Explosive Military Conquest